To The Table - Bronze Nazareth

Uh-huh, whoo, whoo

I’m feeling this fucking beat…

Bronze, you a fool for this one, baby

Good looking out for this one, uh-huh

Yo, yo, yo, uh-huh

Aiyo, fuck some 22's, I’d rather buy a four-four

While you jumps looking pretty, I’m preparing for war

I’m like that nigga on the bench, man, ready to score

You can tell that I’m anxious, frustration in my face

Ain’t nobody put me here, had to earn my place

Talk a couple loses, dog, but I’m still in the race

So fuck fronting for a bitch, man, I’m try’nna get rich

Paid in full like Ace Boogie, making money like Mitch

While you clowns stop in whips, man I’m playing with ships

Smoking purple, staying focused, while I sip on a fifth

My man Bronze put me on, so you know I’mma do it

Keep this ill shit moving, keep it flowing like fluid

Went from guns to the mic, so I rep for the streets

For my niggas in them cellblocks, according to beef

Through all the pains and the struggle, how the fuck could I sleep

Plus I’m hungry, muthafucka, can’t rest til I eat

Yeah, ya’ll niggas know me, man (Black Day in July)

Know what the fuck I represent (Wu-Tang, nigga)

Word up.

We in the sweatshop, we work hard on our jobs

Dark mobs, the whole block of parched monks taking shots

Resilient psychic villains, days blacker than Exxon spillage

Tuck the Pillage, paper sack it, fuck the millage

My spirits from the kingdom of Kush, get drunk with Jenna Bush

She like «Yo, Bronze, I love how you cook»

When fans spit the sun out, it turned to onyx daze

My moon’s bright, spend white nights in an angel’s gaze

Dorothy Dandridge manuscript, pretty as your daughter’s kiss

Black clouds, high noon, rain on the nemesis

Words made of Qu’ran pages, you never stood by

And saw thoughts so clear, as a man’s breath in winter time

You saluteable Jesus feet, glow like the furnace

Voice like Rushin' waters of Vodka from a thermos

Half baked brain case, love how your dame taste

You sour as welfare milk weeks beyond the keep dates

Blunts is snake skin coils, I gotta alotta top soil

Throw it on coffins, with nails from Mosque Halls

Swim-fan bitches, pools of pre-cum in my britches

Wipe it on her fat ass, fuck tissues

Prominent son of Mary, Ossuary Pen, stole the rhythm

Ran through these bars like I escaped prison

I’ve risen like locust in the mausoleum Seal

Terrorize lines like Wu signs in Mel Gibson fields